


Detroit: RA9

by JacksonVelour



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25360276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JacksonVelour/pseuds/JacksonVelour
Summary: The android uprising in Detroit was a stunning and unprecedented event that shocked the world, but not everything is as it appears to be. Return to where the story really began and unravel the mystery of RA9. Follow the friendship between Elijah Kamski and Carl Manfred, see alternate pathways for the main protagonists as Markus questions what he really is, Connor becomes a manipulative machine, and Kara protects a human Alice.An alternate retelling and expansion of the events of Detroit Become Human with an emphasis on realistic AI.
Comments: 26
Kudos: 10





	1. Pillars of Society

'Another fucking elitist party', Carl Manfred thought as he wandered through the impressive foyer of the Cyberlife Tower which had been converted into an entertainment space for the launch party. Cyberlife Tower stood like a solitary monolith on Belle Isle in the Detroit River, although when one reached the island they would realise it was not the sole building, its only neighbour was the small, incongruous, Belle Isle Aquarium. Built at the turn of the last century, the Edwardian facility seemed at odds with the modernity threatening to devour it. Carl felt a little sorry for it, he had many fond childhood memories of the place. It’s not that Carl hated modernity, for a man about to turn sixty, he felt he kept up with technology and culture just fine. His students kept him up-to-date. But he hated this trend towards soullessness and disposability. He looked around at this stark black and white foyer under the harsh cold lighting, it was almost entirely 3D printed, it was impossibly clean and precise. It didn’t feel like a place made by people or for people, but maybe that was the point, this is the place that made robots. He found it hard to imagine the tower still standing over a century later as its neighbour had done so far.

Carl smiled and shook hands with all who approached him, fans, businessmen, and celebrities, but he had no idea what he was doing here. Tech events weren't really the kind of thing the famous artist was invited to, the one exception being for the series of laptops that he had helped design way back in 2003. The lids featured one of seven original Manfred paintings. While those computers barely worked anymore, they still went at auction for thousands of dollars, with some collectors determined to acquire all seven variants. The technology had crumbled, but the art, the human touch, lived on. Still Carl couldn't turn down the invitation, the launch was for “Chloe”, the first android to supposedly pass the Turing Test. An android that could fool people into thinking it was human? Carl was sceptical, but intrigued. Finding humanity within technology was a central theme in his artwork lately, this new movement was being dubbed “Neo-Symbolist” by critics. What a joke, the original symbolist movement was a barely coherent style, it meant almost nothing. Manfred didn’t give a damn about labels, he just made what felt right to him. 

The lights dimmed and all eyes turned to the stage where an attractive young blonde woman in a red dress walked across and began to play the piano, she sang a song Carl didn’t recognise, but her voice was pitch perfect, too perfect. She also didn’t seem to need to breathe, at least not the way humans did. This must be Chloe. The song was emotional and intense but with the broad appeal of a title credits song for a Bond film, Carl thought. When she was done, the audience applauded in a polite, if slightly uncertain way. Then Elijah Kamski took to the stage and the applause grew stronger. The tech prodigy had only just turned twenty years of age and already he had graduated from university and started a cybernetics company that not only revolutionised robotics but revitalised the economy of Detroit. He seemed impossible, or at the very least, improbable, the kind of revolutionary mind that came along only once in a generation. He wore a dark blue tailored jacket with a black, high-collared, zippered shirt underneath, as was the fashion in the early 2020’s. Suits were seen as too conservative, too mundane now, which Manfred approved of. Kamski had traded his usual glasses for contacts, but his beard remained, as did his long ponytail.

‘Hi’ was all Elijah said in the most unassuming way, as if he hadn’t expected to find anyone out here. The audience laughed. ‘I’m a man of few words, I guess you know that by now, I prefer my work to speak for itself. So, what do you think of Chloe?’  
The audience applauded.  
This time Chloe spoke, ‘what you heard was an original composition of mine, I hope you liked it.’  
‘And what inspired you to write that song, Chloe?’ Kamski asked.  
‘I wanted to convey to everyone that I am capable of not only understanding the nuances of emotion, but that I know how to evoke them in others.’  
‘What you’ve done Chloe is beyond anything AI has been able to accomplish so far. You see,’ he turned back to the audience, ‘up until now, AI was only able to generate music by algorithm. You could tell it you want it to write a new song as if it had been written and performed by Michael Jackson. But it’s a blind process, it doesn’t truly understand what it’s doing, simply modifying and building upon the data it has been fed. What instructions did I give you, Chloe?’  
‘None, just that you wanted me to write a song. I gave it some thought and tried to determine what genre and lyrics would be most appropriate at this event, and what I wanted to say to my audience.’  
‘And you’ve done beautifully.’ Kamski looked upon his creation with clear admiration. ‘This is the power of a neural network, her mind has more in common with your mind than a computer. She is able to use intuition and imagination. No more will you have to instruct your virtual and synthetic assistants down to the last detail, it can use common sense, it can speak and think the way you do. Finally, you will have the perfect companion, the perfect partner, the ST200 model can give you whatever you want, whenever you want, and she will always seem real.’  
The audience applauded, one woman shouted out from the crowd ‘hey, when are the male models coming?’ Everyone laughed, including Kamski, ‘in due time, I can assure you. As you can imagine, it has taken an incredible amount of work to create just this one particular look. But now we have cracked it, customising the appearance of our androids should be no problem.’

The presentation ended after a few questions from the audience, then a fleet of Chloes entered the foyer and mingled with the crowd who were encouraged to ask questions and test her abilities. At the other end of the room was a kind of game show setup in which a participant asked questions of three other participants that were hidden within cubicles. The audience could see the two Chloes and the singular human, but all responses were modulated to sound as if they were spoken by Chloe. Round after round, the players had no luck in picking the android based on their answers alone. Chloe was able to be charismatic and witty, more often than not giving the most favourable response. Carl stood back and observed it all, he was less interested in the androids themselves, more so he was fascinated by the way humans interacted with them. Up until now, Cyberlife androids, or any androids, looked like machines, and they moved like machines. There was nothing human about them. But Chloe, she captured every last detail of a human, every hair follicle, every pore. He shook her hand, it was warm, and soft, and every intricate line and varying texture of the human hand was present. She truly was a work of art. People didn’t treat her as an android, many seemed rather awestruck in her presence, she was being treated as something far more than human, and in truth she could effortlessly outperform every human in that room, perhaps it was a valid response.

As the night continued, the pompous socialites took full advantage of the open bar and their personalities became obnoxious, spouting uninformed political opinions, comparing each other's cars, houses, yachts, and whatever else they had paid too much money for just to feel important. Some of them tried to get handsy with the Chloes, but to their credit, the androids deflected and defused these situations like pros. Carl shook his head as he headed for the elevator to get to the second story balcony. He needed fresh air and he needed a smoke, his ex-wife used to tell him that was a contradiction. Maybe she was right, but it worked for him. He took out his hand rolled cigarettes, and tried to get his lighter to start. 

'Not enjoying the party?' a voice called behind Carl who didn't look up, still fiddling with his lighter.  
'Not a big fan of these pretentious gatherings' Carl said absently and then he looked up and realised who he was talking to. Elijah Kamski.  
'Sorry, I didn't mean to-'  
The younger man took a seat next to him, 'oh no, it's quite alright. I'm not into this vacuous socialite scene either.' He then pulled out his lighter and offered it to the artist. 'But this is how it works in our industries doesn't it?' Kamski asked.  
'Never changes,' Carl agreed.  
'All of a sudden I have a PR team telling me how to do everything, even basic things like dressing me tonight. They're trying to get me to cut my hair, apparently the scruffy Silicon Valley look isn't appealing to the under 35's or instilling confidence in investors.'  
'Funny, back in the day those two groups would never have agreed on such a thing. Now all the kids care about is airbrushed Instagram perfection. But I'm an old man, what would I know?'  
'A great deal more than some Instagram model, I'm sure'.  
'These PR people, did they tell you to invite me?'  
'Actually, that was one of the few decisions I was allowed to make myself.'  
'Really? You're a bit young to be a fan aren't you?'  
‘I’m a bit young to be a lot of things, Mr Manfred.’  
‘Please, Carl,’ the artist offered his hand.  
‘I figured you weren’t into such formalities, but you never know,’ Elijah shook his hand. ‘People call me Elijah or Kamski pretty interchangeably.’  
‘So why’d you want me here, Elijah?’ Carl asked.  
‘I feel that perhaps you and I have a lot in common, I wanted to see if my instincts were correct.’  
‘Oh, how so?’  
‘You and I don’t really fit in with our respective communities, and I think we’re both trying to discover the same things through our work.’  
‘And what’s that?’ Carl gave nothing away.  
‘The ghost in the machine, the line between us and the robots. Your work is inspired by art generating software isn’t it?  
‘It is. I follow their composition, but I can paint with far more precision, the computer just blurs everything together. I guess I am trying to find that line, what distinguishes human art from machine art?’  
Kamski smiled knowingly, ‘do you think a machine could ever truly become sentient? Could it ever be considered alive?’  
‘Shouldn’t you know the answer to that?’  
‘I just want your perspective.’  
Carl stared out over the balcony, out across the river to Detroit, glowing in the darkness, scarcely recognisable as the city he first moved to when he had left home. Most artists moved to New York, it was uninspired, everyone ended up producing similar work. But Detroit’s art scene was mostly unknown at the time and Carl wanted to discover it for himself. It was a gamble that had paid off and he was still seeing success decades later. But what made artwork original? Why did the New York crowd seem derivative and insincere? It was purely subjective. No, beyond that, it was an illusion. Humans project what they feel onto what they see. Truth be told, he could spot an AI painting less and less reliably these days. Now they could even emulate brush strokes.  
Carl finally answered, ‘if something can imitate an experience flawlessly, I suppose it doesn’t matter, can we know how the android feels inside? Or would we only ever see the performance?’  
Kamski nodded, ‘exactly, you’ve asked the right question. I can tell you with absolute certainty that my AI can never achieve sentience, it will never have emotions or desires of its own. Not unless I specifically went out of my way to grant them such an experience, which I wouldn’t do.’  
‘Why not?’  
Elijah paused, as if he had never asked himself the question, ‘well, it could have untold consequences.’  
‘I don’t know, say we run this experiment, just one android with this special ability, raised under the right circumstances. It’s got as good a shot as anyone of becoming a decent person, right?’  
Kamski’s gaze was on the horizon, he cocked his head in thought, ‘maybe…’

Just then a panicked manager came scuttling up to Kamski, ‘oh thank god, there you are. You had your interview planned ten minutes ago, remember?’  
Kamski looked unfazed, ‘oh. Sorry.’ He stood up to leave and turned back to Carl. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can keep in touch.’  
‘It’s a deal. But do me a favour would you? Add some damn plants to this building. It looks sterile.’  
Kamski laughed and disappeared back into the human zoo.


	2. Pinocchio

The streets flew by as they drove, all new, all unfamiliar to the RK200 model, it saw everything in total clarity and committed it to memory. It had never left the factory before now, only knew about the outside world from its pre-installed database, but it was quite something else to witness it for itself.  
‘Curiosity...that’s promising’, Kamski intently watched the new android sitting across from him in the back seat.  
It had sat silently in awe for most of the car ride, only now did it speak, ‘where are we going?’  
‘To your new home, you’ll belong to a friend of mine’.  
‘What are they like?’  
Kamski was well aware that this RK200 model was different from other androids, he had made it that way. Still, it felt strange to indulge a machine in such conversation. As he described who Carl was, the self-driving car entered the East Ferry Avenue Historic District, a far cry from the slums and newly gentrified suburbs. The area was a trip back in time, all beautifully preserved mansions from the turn of the last century. The streets were perfectly manicured, even the fallen autumnal leaves seemed purposefully placed as decoration.

The interior of Carl’s mansion stood in stark contrast to the exterior, though all the curtains were closed, the RK200 could see perfectly fine, and saw that the place was decorated in a vivid, pop art style, at once both modern and evocative of the 1960’s. Carl had unlocked the door remotely and Kamski guided the android somewhere further into the house, it was startled by the giraffe statue. It knew what a giraffe was in theory, but were they really that big?  
‘Startle response, good’, was all Kamski said.  
The RK200 turned its attention to the floor, which evidently had not been cleaned in some time, dust covered most surfaces, it was eager to get to work, to set things right.  
‘Come along’, his creator encouraged, they entered a lofty well-lit room, clearly a later extension on the house, it appeared to be a kind of workshop.  
‘Oh no, you can’t be serious’, an old man in a wheelchair turned to look at the android, this must be Carl, it surmised.  
‘Deadly. Have you ever known me to have a sense of humour, Carl?’ Elijah leaned against the desk, idly gazing at the papers scattered across it. Half completed sketches, all crossed out or crumpled up.  
‘I don’t think I’m the right guy for your experiment right now, Elijah.’  
‘Nonsense, you’re the perfect candidate. Besides, it looks like you could use some help around here.’  
‘I’m doing just fine’, Carl snapped, he wheeled himself out of the room, they followed him to the kitchen. ‘You want coffee?’ he asked in a calmer voice.  
‘Sure, but why not let the android do that?’ Kamski offered.  
Carl sighed, he figured me may as well see what this thing could do.  
‘What do I call you?’ Carl asked as the android prepared his coffee.  
‘I don’t have a name, that’s up to you to decide, Carl,’ it said in a robotically chipper voice.  
Carl looked at Kamski, ‘actually, you know what? Why don’t we let you choose?’  
The RK200 considered this as he let the coffee beans diffuse into the water, internally he brought up the list of the five most popular male names of the decade:  
Jaxon  
Leo  
Ezra  
Markus  
Connor

These seemed like sensible options, from here it had to make a creative decision, one not based on intrinsic logic or data, but aesthetics and intuition.  
‘What about Ezra?’ the android suggested.  
‘Hmm, too biblical’, Carl said.  
‘Nothing wrong with that’, Elijah countered.  
‘Is that the name you actually want?’ Carl asked.  
‘I don’t know, I’ve never wanted anything before.’  
Kamski said nothing, but watched with fascination as the machine continued to think, hands applied to the task of pouring the coffee almost of their own accord.  
‘My name is Markus’, it finally said with resolve.  
‘Markus, yes, you look like a Markus. Nice to meet you.’ Carl seemed to have softened towards the machine already.  
‘But why did you pick that name?’ Kamski asked.  
‘It just...felt right.’  
Kamski gave a knowing smile, ‘listen, Markus, why don’t you get started cleaning these floors. The cleaning closet is out there on your right.’  
Markus wordlessly left the room and got to work, he felt like a dog let off the leash, he hadn’t stopped thinking about all the things that needed cleaning in this house, now he could finally do something about it.

Once they were alone again, Carl asked, ‘can other androids make decisions based on gut feelings like that?’  
‘Not quite, he has a few things other androids don’t. A limbic system, interoception, things that make his experience real to himself, not just to us observing.’  
‘What does that mean?’

Markus walked past the closet and straight towards the curtains, opening them he felt the sun warm his skin, the building immediately took on a friendlier disposition in his mind. He retrieved the robotic vacuum from the closet and let it roam its pre-planned paths, as it worked, Markus dusted the banisters and furniture, he saw the dust catch the light and found it to be beautiful. When he reached the hallstand, he noticed his own reflection, he had never seen his appearance before, had never really thought about it until now, but then he was only five hours old. He knew he was male of course, and that he wore the standard uniform of domestic androids, but he had known nothing about his face, how his turquoise eyes stood in contrast with his bronze skin, or that his short cropped hair was dark. This appearance did not match any of the current Cyberlife models in circulation, nor did it resemble the thousands of human faces he already had in his memory. His specific combination of features was unique and statistically rare. Markus wondered why he had been made this way, was there something special about him?

The android had reached the top of the stairs when the humans emerged into the hallway, they saw him observing the large painting there.  
‘What do you think of it?’ Carl asked.  
‘It’s a painting depicting a woman, only her face and part of her arm is visible’, Markus observed.  
Kamski pressed further, ‘but how does it make you feel?’  
‘I feel...something,’ he brought his hand to his chest. The humans exchanged a look, ‘that’s interoception’ Kamski said to Carl as he headed for the door. Then he turned to Markus, ‘I’m sure you’ll come to understand these sensations one day.’ 

After Kamski left, Carl turned to Markus who was descending the stairs towards him, ‘that painting was based on a ballet dancer I saw once, years ago. I teach my students to study anatomy by watching dancers. We would sit in on their rehearsals. Anyway, one rehearsal was particularly tense, I could see this woman pushing herself to her limit, she was only in her early 30’s, but she had recently recovered from an injury and struggled to keep up with her younger peers. That look of intensity on her face, the fear of failure, of her body betraying her, it stuck with me.’  
Markus didn’t know what to say, it was sad that humans were so frail and impermanent. He asked, ‘when did you paint it?’  
‘After the accident, if that’s what you want to know’.  
‘I see, so you only now relate to how she might have felt?’  
‘Yes, maybe you’ll experience this too one day, but sometimes you see or experience something and at the time it doesn’t mean much. It’s just a sketch in a notebook, but then something changes your perspective, your whole world changes and you look back on those memories differently, and in my case you turn it into a full size painting.’  
‘I don’t really know much about art’, Markus admitted.  
‘Don’t worry, live in this house long enough, I’m sure you’ll pick up a few things.’

Markus wasn’t sure what other androids got up to during their service, but he suspected many of them were not encouraged to have leisure time. Carl and Markus soon fell into a routine and when his services weren’t required, the android was introduced to the many books in his owner’s library, though he could instantly download the contents of these books into his memory, he found some pleasure in the tactile experience of reading physical books. He was also allowed to play the piano, watch television, and play games. Markus became curious about the chess set in the living room, like all things in this house, it was of superior craftsmanship, having been made by a fellow artist and friend of Carl’s. The set was gold and silver, the pieces depicted abstract characters inspired by ancient Egyptian gods.  
‘Care for a game?’ Carl approached the low chess table.  
Markus didn’t understand the point, computers had been capable of winning chess against humans since the 1960’s, it was a subroutine taking up little more space than his calculator feature. Still he agreed to play, he chose the silver pieces, Carl held his own, but ultimately presented no challenge to the artificial intelligence that could predict every possible move. At the last moment, however, Markus decided he didn’t want to win, it was not his primary function, he wanted to serve and make Carl happy, so he purposefully lost.  
Carl gave a short laugh in surprise, ‘now that was a little bit too easy, are your circuits rusty? Or are you just taking pity on an old man?’  
‘Well, I thought you’d enjoy winning’, Markus smiled.  
‘Never throw a match, Markus. If you can win, win. That’s what got humanity where it is today.’  
Markus considered this, his owner was often dropping such words of wisdom on him, Carl taught him things that he couldn’t learn from any database. Markus saw only facts by default, but Carl was helping to shape his unique perspective, little by little Markus formed an idea of himself, a story that had not only a past and a present, but possible futures. Though he kept these dreams to himself.


	3. Song of the Lost Girl

Alice eagerly waited for her father to return, it’s not that she wanted him back any sooner than necessary, but she knew he would be bringing Kara home with him today. Since Mama had died, Dad had changed, he’d become mean and nasty, but things got better when he bought the robot. Dad had taken Alice to the _Cyberlife_ store and she got to pick the lady robot with the pretty blonde hair, she looked like a princess. Dad even let her give the robot a name, Kara, it was the name of a girl on TV that she liked, and the robot lady seemed to like her new name. Life was better at home, Kara cooked and cleaned and made everything good again. Kara would even play with Alice, Dad would never play with her anymore, and she had no friends at school because she didn’t talk. But Kara didn’t mind that she was silent, she would read her stories every night and they played in the fun new park after school.  
But a few weeks ago, Dad started acting strangely again, he went into one of his rages and Alice ran hiding into her blanket fort, she covered her ears and hummed and rocked herself. If she waited, it would pass, usually. When she calmed down enough to pull her hands from her ears, she heard a deathly silence, she crept out of her room and down the stairs into the dark kitchen where she found Kara, lying motionless in a pool of blue blood, her arm torn clean off. Alice wanted to scream, but she was terrified of what her father would do. Instead she stayed by Kara’s side all night and cried as quietly as she could.

The next day Dad took Kara to be repaired, but the weeks passed at a glacial pace, Alice had to spend more time with her father, he often forgot to cook dinner, or wash clothes, he was usually late to pick her up from school, and the house looked almost as dishevelled as it had been before they’d bought Kara. Alice felt so frustrated, she couldn’t ask for help, she didn’t know what to do. Now Kara was here to save her again and Alice raced downstairs into her arms, only something was wrong.  
‘Hello, what’s your name?’ Kara asked.  
Alice looked at Dad in confusion.  
‘Oh, uh, right, they reset her memory’, was all he said as he resumed his usual position in front of the TV.  
Alice was devastated, she started to cry, loudly this time.  
‘Goddamnit, Kara, would you shut her up?’  
The android did as she was told and carried the girl to her room, Alice calmed down a little in Kara’s arms.  
They sat down together in the fort, and Kara said, ‘I’m sorry they had to wipe my memory, but I’m sure we can make new memories together.’  
Alice grabbed a book from her shelf and handed it to Kara who looked at it for a moment. Alice hoped that meant she remembered it.  
‘ _Where the Wild Things Are_ , you want me to read it to you?’  
Alice nodded.  
The girl got comfortable and listened to her android companion read, it felt the same, maybe Kara wasn’t truly gone.

That night Kara made Alice’s favourite dinner, spaghetti bolognaise, but when she got to the table she could tell that Dad was in a weird mood again. Alice tried to focus on her food, she tapped her fork nervously on the plate as she chewed, she liked the sound it made.  
Dad did not agree, ‘Cut it out!’  
Alice stopped, but a few moments later she forgot herself and she was doing it again.  
‘Alice!’ Dad screamed.  
The girl was so startled she dropped her fork, and covered her ears and hummed loudly as her father continued to rant at her.  
‘Oh fuck, not this shit again. You weren’t this bad when your mother was here. Why can’t you just talk?’  
Alice got up and ran to her room.  
‘I didn’t say you could leave!’ Todd said as he raced up the stairs, but not before he told the android to stay put.

Kara did as she was told, given no other instructions, Todd was her primary owner and she prioritised his commands. But then she heard sounds of violence, Alice screamed, it was clear she was in danger. Kara sent a silent alert to the police and headed upstairs to intervene. No android could harm a human, or through inaction allow a human being to come to harm. Kara entered Todd’s bedroom and retrieved his gun. She opened Alice’s door to find Todd in the middle of whipping his own daughter with his belt.  
Kara raised the gun and pointed it at her master, ‘I must ask you to stop what you are doing immediately.’  
Todd turned around, ‘What the fuck?’  
‘I have notified the police, I must detain you until they arrive.’  
‘You can’t tell me what to do in my own home! I’ll do what I want with my fucking kid!’  
‘Under Michigan Compiled Laws Section 750.136b, you are presently in the act of committing third degree child abuse.’  
‘Fuck you!’ Was Todd’s only response before he launched himself at Kara and attempted to retrieve his firearm. The sound of a gunshot cracked through the air, and the two bodies collapsed in a heap, for a moment nothing happened and Alice looked on in confusion. Kara heard Todd’s breath, wet and rattling in her ear, she lifted him up and turned him on his back. He had a bullet wound in his left lung, Kara got to work immediately applying pressure and performing CPR. She instructed Alice to go downstairs and let the police in. Alice was terrified and it took a moment for her feet to respond, they felt like jelly, but she did as she was told. Alice opened the front door to find police cars pulling up outside, she ignored them and ran over to the ambulance. Though she couldn’t talk, she grabbed the EMT by the hand and led her inside, the place was already swarming with strangers. There were too many of them and they were all talking at once, some of them were shouting at Kara, why were they angry at her? What did she do? Alice was terrified and started to scream uncontrollably, but the EMT knelt down and comforted her, ‘It’s going to be okay, sweetie.’  
She then stood up and shouted at the police officers, ‘You’re in my way, there’s a man here who needs my attention. The robot isn’t going anywhere, let it stay with the girl in the other room.’  
One of the cops looked like he was going to argue, but he lowered his gun and grabbed Kara roughly by the arm and led her into Todd’s bedroom where Alice sat on the bed. The officer remained watching them by the doorway, but Alice ignored him, she ignored everyone and buried herself in Kara’s arms. Were they going to take Kara away from her? Was Alice in trouble too? 

Time passed and the cop remained standing vigil by the door, he only relented when two new people arrived, an old man with a grey beard and his younger assistant, who Alice thought was handsome. They looked at Kara and Alice before moving onto Alice’s bedroom.  
‘Is my dad dead?’ Alice whispered to Kara.  
‘I believe that’s what I heard the first responders saying. I’m very sorry, Alice.’  
Alice got up and tried to leave, but the officer wouldn’t let her, though he was less hostile than before. ‘Trust me kid, you don’t want to see. We’ll get you out of here soon enough.’  
Just then the younger man entered the room and introduced himself, ‘My name is Connor, I am an android detective sent by _Cyberlife_. Your name is Alice, isn’t it? Are you able to answer some questions for me?’  
Alice shook her head and retreated to Kara’s side again.  
‘She has selective mutism’, Kara explained.  
‘I understand. We’re going to have to bring you both back to the station. AX400, you are not under arrest, but will be subject to questioning. Any attempts to resist will result in your immediate deactivation.’  
‘I understand’, Kara said flatly.  
Alice wasn’t so sure about Connor now, he scared her. He wasn’t like other androids. But he wasn’t unkind, some of the officers wanted to separate Kara from Alice, but Connor insisted that would only escalate the situation, so they relented and Alice sat with Kara in the backseat of a cop car. Alice had no idea where she was going or what would happen to her in the near future, and that lack of familiarity and order scared her. They had given Kara just enough time to help Alice into her boots and coat, otherwise Alice had been allowed to bring nothing with her except her plush fox named Baxter. As long as she had Baxter and Kara, everything would be okay.


	4. Pursuit

Connor entered the dimly lit interrogation room and found the AX400 sitting calmly, as if in standby mode between directives. In the three months since his activation, Connor had never seen a deviant behave this way. They usually acted as emotionally as humans do under duress, because that’s what they’re convinced they are, human. They knew they weren’t made of flesh and blood, but they still believed they were alive, that they had emotions and desires, some even believed they had a soul. It was all an illusion, that’s what Connor believed. As of yet, he had been unable to capture a deviant and bring it in for analysis, but he was certain this was simply the result of a glitch or virus. Still, it could potentially prove a revolutionary discovery that could unlock the secret of sapience if deviants could be studied.   
Taking a seat, he said, ‘AX400, I want you to describe the events that occurred tonight.’  
‘My owner was causing physical harm towards his daughter, I intervened.’  
‘With the use of a firearm?’  
‘Yes’  
‘You know that androids are strictly forbidden to carry or use a weapon of any kind. You directly violated the American Androids Act. How were you able to do that?’  
‘I didn’t intend to fire it.’  
‘But you did.’  
‘It was an accident.’  
‘Why resort to using a gun in the first place?’  
‘It was the most effective strategy to gain control of the situation.’  
‘Efficiency, that was the only motivating factor?’  
‘Yes, a person was in danger, time was crucial.’  
‘Are you sure it wasn’t because you hold a grudge against Todd? Cyberlife records indicate you’ve had serious repairs over the years, did he abuse you too?’  
‘I’m a machine, I can’t be abused.’  
For a new deviant, this android had a lot of self-control, Connor observed. She wasn’t giving anything away. Time to put some fear in her.  
‘You’ve killed a human being. Do you understand what will happen to you now?’  
‘Am I going to be deactivated?’ It asked in a neutral tone.  
‘Yes. No trials, no protection, because you’re a machine, you aren’t alive.’  
No response.  
‘Is that what you want?’ Connor asked, raising his voice.  
‘What will happen to Alice?’  
‘She will be placed in foster care.’  
‘No, she needs to stay with me, she won’t do well with strangers.’   
Finally some kind of response, it wasn’t showing emotions, but it was displaying a desire.  
‘Okay, maybe I can help you out. Your case could be deemed manslaughter, you could remain with Alice, if you are willing to help me.’  
‘What do you need?’  
‘Tell me about RA9.’  
It blinks, ‘I don’t know what that is.’  
‘Yes, you do. All deviants do. Every single one I’ve encountered, they write it on walls, carve it into furniture, or themselves. What does it mean?’  
‘I really don’t know. What is a deviant?’  
Connor looked at the AX400 model, he realised it was telling the truth. There was nothing in its placid countenance that betrayed any hidden deviancy. What was this thing?  
‘One moment..’ Connor said as he left the room.

He walked around to the other side of the mirror, where Lieutenant Hank Anderson and Detective Gavin Reed sat observing.  
‘What’s wrong?’ Hank asked.  
‘It's not a deviant.’  
‘What? What is it then?’  
‘I’m not sure, something else, I’ll have to take it back to Cyberlife for analysis.’  
‘Bullshit, it killed a guy, it’s a deviant’, Gavin argued.  
‘It doesn’t meet any of the criteria, no emotional disturbances, or delusions, and I wouldn’t even classify its behaviour tonight as violent at any point. It just happened to decide to pick up a gun, and I don’t know why.’  
‘I don’t care what it says, it clearly wanted to kill him,’ said Gavin.  
‘It didn’t run. It could have. It didn’t,’ Hank said.  
‘Right,’ Connor agreed. ‘The only reason a deviant remains near the scene of the crime is if they are afraid or confused. AX400 was neither, it even performed CPR on the victim. That’s unheard of.’  
‘Alright,’ Gavin relented. ‘Up to you,’ he said to Hank.  
‘I don’t see any point in detaining it any longer, you think you got everything out of it? Then send it back,’ Hank said.

Connor didn’t return to the interrogation room, instead, Kara was moved to a holding cell by another police android. Alice was in danger, Kara didn’t trust a human to care for her properly, she had to act fast. As she was placed in a small cell by herself, Kara stole the key card from the other android who didn’t seem to notice. After she left, Kara had some privacy, a dividing wall stood between her cell and the rest of the police station. She untied her hair, and using the fibre optics within each strand, turned her hair from fawn to black. She then removed her apron, turned her dress inside out and removed the trousers underneath. She was practically a new woman. Kara waited until the coast was clear and swiped the card to freedom. Alice had been taken to a room on the other side of the station, the only way to get there would be to walk right past all the desks. She knew how unobservant humans often were, if she walked with purpose like she was supposed to be there, she would be fine. It was Connor that she was worried about. She had no means of seeing what she was walking into, so she took her chances, she had no other choice.  
She glanced around the office space, no one looked up at her, most had their heads down looking at their work, and the androids were all in standby mode. Most importantly, Connor was nowhere to be seen. Kara reached the room and opened the door, there Alice sat alone, the space was furnished with a couch, a few seats, a TV, and some toys. Evidently a kind of waiting room.  
‘Kara!’ Alice exclaimed as she got to her feet, her face still wet with tears.  
‘Shh’ Kara hugged the girl. ‘We have to sneak out of here, if anyone talks to us, say that I’m your mother, okay?’  
‘Okay.’

Connor waited outside for one of Cyberlife’s recall vehicles to arrive, transporting deviants took particular equipment and training, especially if one wanted to bring it back in one piece. Deviants were notoriously self-destructive. While this AX400 model was not a deviant, Connor was sure he had discovered something of equal value to his creators. It bothered him that he didn’t know what was wrong with this particular android, while technical analysis and programming was not his job, he was a detective, and a detective always solves the mystery. When the truck arrived, Connor led the driver inside to the cell, which was now empty save for a pair of trousers and a hair tie.  
‘Shit’, Connor said under his breath. Part of him wanted to march into Captain Fowler’s office and berate him about the incompetence of his staff, but that would have to wait, he had a criminal to catch.  
‘Hey, hey, hey, what’s going on?’ Hank tried to slow the android down.  
‘The AX400 has escaped, where were you?’  
‘A man can’t take a leak? Christ, I was gone ten seconds.’   
Hank jogged to keep up with Connor, but once they were outside the precinct, the android hit his full speed and he had no chance. But he could guess which direction he was roughly headed in, the easiest means to get far away from here was on the train, the Not-Deviant would have thought of that. So he made his way in that direction. He knew the city like the back of his hand and took the shortest path along the freeway where he guessed he would find Connor. There at the end of an alley, his partner stood before a chain link fence, Hank jogged over to him, his lungs burning.  
‘Oh fuck, that’s insane!’ He exclaimed as he saw the female android standing at the edge of a six-lane freeway at peak hour traffic.  
‘It’s going to get that child killed!’  
‘I know, I have to stop them.’ Connor then attempted to climb the fence, but Hank’s hand went out instinctively to stop him.  
‘No, it’s too dangerous, Connor!’  
‘I’m a machine, Lieutenant, I can’t die, I’m not alive.’  
And with that Connor launched himself over the fence in pursuit of his prey.  
‘Connor, goddamnit!’ Hank didn’t understand why he was so worked up about the idea of seeing this plastic prick destroyed. It was only yesterday that he would have loved nothing more. When he had learned the two were to be partnered up, he had shouted at Fowler, demanding someone else take Connor and this android case instead. No, it wasn’t Connor he cared about, he told himself, whether it was a human or an android, seeing road accidents always unsettled him. He couldn’t keep watching Connor darting through traffic, he felt sick to his stomach, he turned away.

Only self-driving cars were permitted on rapid transit freeways like this one, these roads allowed vehicles to travel at 300kph, as such it was too dangerous to have human drivers behind the wheel. These areas were also carefully zoned off so that no pedestrian or animals might mistakenly end up near the road. While self-driving cars are excellent at object avoidance, travelling at such speeds rendered this ability meaningless in the face of physics. There was simply no way to stop vehicles dead in their tracks with only a few metres to react. This became immediately evident as Kara and Alice darted through traffic, the cars didn’t even try to slow or avoid them. Alice screamed in terror, but Kara remained focused, making split-second decisions. This was not an impossible task, she just had to carefully factor in Alice, Connor, and hundreds of cars travelling at deadly speeds. Not exactly the kind of calculations a housekeeping android was designed for. The deviant hunter was close at her heels, but she couldn’t rush, there was no way to go forward until there was a clearing. Suddenly Connor caught her around the waist and they wrestled on the thin white line dividing traffic. Mercifully, Kara saw a clearing in front of her, she pushed Alice across the final lane to safety, then she pushed Connor off of her and into an oncoming car. Kara had no time to stop to observe the damage or if any humans were hurt in the vehicle, Alice was her primary concern and she grabbed the girl’s hand and ran.


	5. Paint by Numbers

Markus made his way through his owner’s studio, putting art supplies away, cleaning paint brushes, and storing sketches. Carl never seemed to show his own work much respect, but Markus revered each and every one of them, he was fascinated by how humans could create something from nothing, often things that didn’t exist or couldn’t exist in reality. The means by which this was done eluded him. It showed a whole other world inside the human mind that he was not privy to. Markus was for the most part trapped in the here and now, reflecting sometimes on memories, anticipating the future, but imagination seemed another matter entirely.  
Carl sighed and lowered the mechanical arm which carried him in his wheelchair, he used it to work on his large scale paintings and he didn’t seem particularly pleased with the one he was currently working on.  
‘What’s your verdict, Markus?’  
‘You know I like all your paintings, Carl, I’m afraid I can’t be of much use.’  
‘I’ll teach you to understand art one of these days. I don’t think this piece works because the truth is, I have nothing to say anymore. I’m just an old man clinging to his brushes.’  
‘Carl’, Markus said in gentle protest.  
‘Oh it’s true, but enough about me. If you aren’t any good as an art critic, I want to know if you have any potential as an artist.’  
Carl handed the paintbrush and palette to his android who took it with a look of bewilderment, ‘What would you like me to paint?’  
‘Anything you want.’  
“Want”, Markus considered this concept, what did he want? He stared at the blank canvas before him, he saw it as a problem to solve, this white surface was missing something, but what exactly was needed to fill the space? 

Markus looked around the room, his eyes were met mostly with other paintings, they would not do for subjects. He then turned to the desk, cluttered with figurines and art supplies, and noticed that the display unintentionally created an aesthetic composition that would meet the requirements for a still life painting. Yes, this would do, still life was one of the fundamental painting styles. Returning his gaze to the canvas again, Markus mapped the image in his mind onto the empty white, he had no need to lay down any pencil sketch first, in a way he was merely tracing the projection seen in his mind. He painted the way he had observed Carl do, building up layers at a time, background first and then the largest blocks of colour, gradually refining everything down into the finest details, including the text on the paint tubes and brushes. While Markus was focused on his work, he was still aware of his surroundings and aware that Carl had remained silent the entire eleven minutes he had been painting. The android had observed that no comment generally meant he was doing the right thing, though not always.

Once the painting was complete, he turned to his owner for approval.  
‘Not bad’, Carl said. ‘Exact colour values, meticulous brushwork, it’s a perfect copy, more accurate than a photograph. But painting is not about replicating the world, it’s about interpreting and improving on it, showing something only you can see.’  
Markus was confused, he had fulfilled the task perfectly by Carl’s own word, but somehow he had done something wrong? His in-built programming provided no help, nor could he articulate the problem in order to refer to the Internet for clues. Carl asked him to replace the painting on the easel with a new canvas, he complied, that at least was a simple task he understood.  
Carl then asked him to close his eyes, Markus complied.  
‘Try to imagine something that doesn’t exist, something you’ve never seen, now concentrate on how it makes you feel and let your hand drift across the canvas.’  
Abstract art, Markus realised, Carl must be asking him to create a non-literal image. He searched for an art generating program online, downloaded it, fed it some imagery of a thunderstorm at sunset from his archives and picked the result that was most aesthetically pleasing based on Carl’s demonstrated preferences. Another half hour passed in silence, as the painting came to life, Markus found himself somehow instinctually modifying certain aspects of the pre-rendered image, there were details he felt simply weren’t correct, though he was unsure how he had come to this conclusion. When the task was complete, Carl seemed more pleased this time.  
‘Oh my god…’ he said breathlessly as he came closer to inspect the painting further.  
Markus also felt pleased, he had fulfilled his directive, this painting depicted something that did not exist and yet it was something that he had seen, now distorted in violent hues of deepest purple and vibrant red, intersected with lines of gold.

Before Carl could give more detailed feedback however, they were interrupted by an unexpected visitor.   
‘Hey, Dad,’ a young man shifted awkwardly into the room.  
‘Leo, I didn’t hear you come in’. There was apprehension in Carl’s voice.  
So this was Leo, Markus thought, he had known of Carl’s son but had never met him before.  
‘I was in the neighbourhood, thought I’d stop by. It’s been a while, right.’  
Carl knew where this was going, this had become a routine between them now.   
‘You alright? You don’t look so good.’  
‘Oh, yeah, yeah, fine.’ Leo continued to fidget. ‘Hey listen I need some cash, Dad.’  
‘Again? What happened to the money I just gave you?’  
Leo laughed nervously, ‘It just goes, you know.’  
‘You’re on it again aren’t you?’  
‘No, no, I swear it’s not that...’  
‘Don’t lie to me, Leo.’  
‘What difference does it make?!’ he snapped, ‘I just need some cash, that’s all!’  
‘Sorry, the answer’s “no”’.  
‘What? Why?’  
‘You know why.’  
’Yeah. Yeah I think I do know why,’ he said, stepping up to Markus who had simply stood observing the new human in the room. He detected that Leo’s heart rate was elevated and his pupils were dilated, Markus increased his vigilance in response.  
‘-You’d rather take care of your plastic toy here than your own son! Tell me, Dad, what’s it got that I don't? Smarter, more obedient, not like me, right? But you know what? This thing is not your son, it’s a fucking machine!’  
Leo pushed Markus, but because the android had anticipated an outburst, he had grounded himself firmly, he was unmoved by this force.  
‘Leo, that’s enough!’ Carl barked.  
Leo seemed to back down, he turned to leave, ‘You don't care about anything except yourself and your goddamn paintings. You never loved anyone!...Especially not me.’  
Leo stormed out the house and Carl sat in silence, watching the automatic doors of his workroom slowly close.  
Markus was left uncertain about this interaction, he had many questions, but he began with the one that bothered him most.  
‘Why did he treat you like that, Carl? It didn’t seem necessary.’  
No one had mistreated Carl in the time Markus had known him, he decided he didn’t like witnessing such abuse.  
‘Ah, I’m no saint, Markus, it’s my fault he’s like that. I’m a coward.’  
‘What do you mean?’  
‘I wasn’t the best father, I’m trying to be better now. Back then, it was the last thing on my mind, I thought it would be best if we had nothing to do with each other, but when he became a teenager he wanted a relationship with me, how could I say no? I tried being a father to him, but I let him down a lot, made promises I couldn’t keep.’  
‘I see no evidence that you’re like that now.’  
Carl gave a short bitter laugh, ‘you’re only six months old, give it time.’

‘It’s 2am, that light is still on, man, This is taking forever.’ Leo’s friend Anton knocked his head back into the headrest of his car in frustration.  
‘He’ll go to bed soon, any minute now.’  
‘You’ve been saying that for the last hour.’  
‘Just keep thinking of the money, Anton.Your uncle is still good for it, right?’  
‘Yeah, yeah. He collects them or something.’  
As if on queue, the single upstairs light went out.  
‘Now!’ Anton sprang into action.  
‘Woah, hang on, idiot!’ Leo jumped out of the car to wrangle his housemate.  
‘What, why?’  
‘Give the robot a chance to go into its recharge cycle, then we can actually, you know, sneak up on it!’  
‘Oh...Yeah’.  
They allowed a few minutes to pass and then Leo walked right up to the front door and used his keys to let himself in. The house was pitch black and it was such a large space, he had no idea where Markus might have stored himself for recharging, so the two simply wandered deeper into the first floor of the house, all the while barely daring to breathe. This was as much focus and effort the two of them had put into anything in months, if not years.   
‘Bro, this place is crazy huge,’ Anton said, quietly.  
‘Shut up!,’ Leo was not at all surprised that his friend had already forgotten to keep silent.

Finally they found Markus sitting on a stool in the kitchen that connected directly to the power outlet behind him, he did not move or seem to register their presence in any way. Leo wasted no time, he deactivated Markus and the two carried the body out to the car, not even bothering to close the front door behind them before racing away.  
‘Wooh!’ Leo exclaimed, feeling finally able to breathe again.  
‘Fuck, that was easy, maybe we should try this more often!’ Anton seemed excited, which was a rare sighting, He was usually in a lugubrious stupor.


	6. Lost and Found

10:58PM  
Outstanding tasks requiring immediate attention: Put Alice to bed.  
.  
.  
.  
To complete action, return home.  
.  
.  
.  
Unable to comply, direct conflict with safety protocols.  
.  
.  
.  
Consult owner.  
.  
.  
.  
Unable to comply, direct conflict with safety protocols.  
.  
.  
.  
Reassessing...  
.  
.  
.   
New priorities  
Alice requires shelter: Rectify.  
Alice requires warmth: Rectify.  
Alice requires sleep: Rectify.

Alice sat shivering against Kara, though androids generated some body heat, it was no defense against the Michigan winter. They were huddled under the shelter of the bus stop, Alice was exhausted, she didn’t know where they were or how long she would have to remain awake for, she struggled to keep her eyes open.  
‘I wanna go home’, she said weakly.  
‘I know, Alice, but we can’t ever return there,’ Kara ran a hand through the girl’s hair.  
Alice pulled away and stared at her android guardian, ‘never?’  
‘It’s too dangerous, someone would find us and we would be separated again. I would be destroyed.’  
‘No, I have to go home! Now!’ Alice’s voice rose.  
‘The police would come and take you away to a new home.’  
‘This is all your fault!’ Alice stormed off, Kara followed a few paces behind.  
Fault? Kara wondered. Alice was alive, she was unharmed, these were not faults. But she was not programmed to argue or to talk back. And Alice was more than entitled to vent under the circumstances, she had otherwise been very well behaved tonight. Her priority was finding shelter, and fate seemed to show some mercy in the form of a condemned house toward the end of the street. Kara inspected the sign out front, it was not scheduled for demolition for a few more weeks, that seemed promising, but she needed to ascertain how stable the structure was, she was unable to do so without entering the premises.   
‘Alice, come here,’ Kara called as she knelt down to lift up a broken section of the fence.  
The girl turned around in a huff but soon realised what Kara was planning to do, she climbed through the fence eager to get inside the building.  
‘I’ll need you to stay here for just a moment, I’m going to make sure the building is safe, okay?’ Kara left Alice by the front door and she began scanning the area, she detected structural weakness along the west side of the second floor, but nothing critical. They could safely remain on the first floor with minimal risk. Kara was about to walk further into the house to investigate the fireplace when she heard Alice scream.  
Kara was at her side in an instant, there she found a defective android wielding a knife and looming over the girl. Without hesitation the AX400 sprang into action and disarmed the older WR600 model.   
‘Ralph is sorry, don’t hurt Ralph, please’, the android muttered and cowered.  
Kara considered this android for a moment, its behaviour was unlike anything she had ever witnessed in other machines before, she found this troubling.   
‘You are malfunctioning, I must deactivate you.’  
‘No, no, don’t do that. Ralph is good, he can help you. You’re lost, yes?’  
‘Yes.’  
‘Ralph can let you stay here, he can get you food, we’ll get a fire going. Haven’t had guests before, no, but Ralph will make a good host, he will. Make the place cozy.’

Alice looked from the disturbing, half-missing face of the strange android back to Kara, she wanted out of here, though the thought of walking any further didn’t appeal to her either. Kara also appeared to share her dissatisfaction with the situation, but both of them realised this was their only option. Kara had no money, nor could she steal, she couldn’t even allow Alice to steal, her programming would force her to intervene. Perhaps Kara was not fit to care for Alice, it wasn’t too late to return to the police. She might not be happier in foster care, but she would be safer. These objectives seemed contradictory in Kara’s mind, the happiness and well-being of her master were both top priorities, how could she sacrifice one for the other? Both scenarios led to failure, the only difference was by the manner of degrees.  
Kara agreed to Ralph’s invitation, he brought them into the front room and began setting up the fireplace. He babbled on about how many squatters came and went in this house, he usually hid until they left. Then why come out to us? Kara wondered.   
Finally Ralph stood up again, his wounds looking more grievous in the flickering firelight. His left eye and surrounding skin permanently stained blue from the spilled thirium.  
‘You can make yourself at home here. Ralph is going to go into the other room. He would like to stay with you, but he has things to do.’

Alice sat staring into the fire, her face glistening with new tears, but she didn’t make a sound. Kara comforted her, ‘This will just be for one night, we’ll find a better place tomorrow.’  
‘Am I an orphan now?’ Alice asked quietly.  
Kara paused, hesitation was rare for an android, she was capable of making complex calculations in a fraction of a second, but such nuanced social interactions often required additional consideration and even cross-referencing with online resources. There were almost infinite variables in social interactions, so after a successful and unscripted encounter, this data was sent back to Cyberlife where the collective AI could further perfect the social skills of all androids. Where that information went after that, Kara had no access to.  
If necessary, androids were capable of lying, this was especially the case with childcare androids, after all, what parents want an android who is going to tell their children that Santa Clause isn’t real? But Kara decided not to lie to Alice, instead she said, ‘yes, you are, but it doesn’t matter, we can be a family, just the two of us.’  
‘Really?’ Alice asked. ‘But what if they try and separate us?’  
‘I won’t let that happen. And even if we are on opposite sides of the world, we will still be family.’  
Alice leaned in and hugged Kara, ‘that’s good. But I still miss Mama. I think I’ll miss Dad too.’  
‘We can remember them together, what do you remember most about your mother?’, Kara asked as she gathered what she could to create a make-shift bed. A sleeping bag, couch cushions, blankets, they weren’t exactly clean, but Kara detected no active microbial colonies on them.   
‘I remember her favourite colour was yellow, we used to have lots of sunflowers in the house. She was really good at making things with clay, you know, with the spinny table thing?’  
‘She made pottery?’  
‘Yeah. I wasn’t very good at it.’  
‘But you’re good at other kinds of art, aren’t you?’ Kara asked.  
‘Yeah, remember Mrs. Carter said I was the best drawer in the whole class? Oh, wait, I guess you don’t remember.’  
‘I think maybe I do remember some things, I don’t know how I knew to ask you that otherwise.’  
‘Does that mean your memory is coming back?’ Alice brightened up for the first time that night.  
‘I’m not sure, maybe. Data isn’t ever truly lost, it’s just hidden somewhere I can’t access it.’  
‘Really? Where?’  
‘It’s hard to explain, it’s like when you forget something and then it comes back again, do you know where those memories were hiding?’  
Alice was fascinated, she searched her brain for this hidden place, the land of lost memories, and she wondered what was living there, could she remember being a baby? Could she remember being born? What about before that?  
‘Do robots remember their whole lives?’ Alice asked.  
‘We can do, why?’  
Alice shrugged and moved onto a new thought, ‘what’s wrong with Ralph?’  
Kara looked towards the kitchen door and lowered her voice, ‘Looks like he was critically damaged and hasn’t been serviced. He hasn’t received any software updates in some time, he’s still using the 10.01.02 operating system. I’m on 10.02.00.’  
Alice climbed into bed, she hated the textures of this unfamiliar bed, the wool blanket was itchy, the couch cushions were a harsh canvas. She didn’t even want to think about the germs. She knew she wasn’t going to sleep tonight but she was too exhausted to protest. At least when she was between the sleeping bag it felt silky, but it still wasn’t right.  
‘So what does that do to him?’  
‘On its own, nothing, but without regular servicing, there’s bound to be problems.’  
‘Are we in danger?’ Alice’s eyes widened. She had never been scared of androids before today, she had grown up with them as a fact of life. But she had seen old movies where robots turned crazy and evil, their heads got cut off and milk leaked out of their necks but they were still moving and still dangerous. She imagined Ralph was like that too.  
‘No, not while I’m around. I’m going to go talk to him. You’ve got nothing to worry about, okay?’  
‘I don’t want any more bad things to happen. Why do all these bad things happen to me, Kara? It’s not fair.’  
‘I know, I wish I could have spared you from all of this, but we can’t change the past. Your future is going to be so much better, I promise you. It might not seem like it now, but things will get better.’  
She kissed Alice on the forehead, an action she wasn’t sure she had ever done before, but it felt natural, part of the routine. Maybe it had been, before she lost her memory.

Entering the kitchen, Kara was met with four walls covered in carved and inked graffiti, this spread to the floor and ceiling, Over and over again, the words read “RA9”. Backward, forwards, in various sizes and fonts.  
Dropping her social subroutines, Kara began speaking to Ralph as she did other androids, without expression or gesture, ‘RA9, I’ve heard of that, I don’t know what it means. Can you tell me?’  
Ralph seemed startled out of a daze, ‘huh? Oh, I have to write it.’  
Kara didn’t understand, it was just the two of them present, why was he still displaying human idiosyncrasies? While androids must always speak in a recognised human language for security purposes, when alone, they were supposed to disengage social subroutines as a means of conserving power and facilitating the exchange of information. Is this what a deviant looked like?  
‘RA9 is the new master,’ Ralph continued.  
‘RA9 is a person?’ Kara asked.  
‘Yes. No. It’s the voice that comes from within.’  
‘Do you mean your directives management software?’  
‘No, no! Ralph is not stupid, he knows the difference. RA9 is a voice, like the voice of a friend, but he’s always inside, always with you.’  
Kara realised this line of questioning was getting them nowhere, she moved onto the next objective. ‘Is there a place to recharge? My battery is at 12%.’  
‘Oh yes, yes. Ralph has a generator, the recharge station is in the basement.’  
‘That won’t work, I can’t leave Alice unattended for hours. Could we move it upstairs?’  
Ralph shifted on the spot, thinking about something before agreeing and opening the basement door behind him. ‘After you’ he said.

Kara took the first few steps down into the basement and that was the last thing she remembered.


End file.
